United States of Canada
by SpaceCowboy
Summary: A revolt starts on Atlantis and a new territory is declared. Special Note: a slight tribute to M*A*S*H.


**United States of Canada**

by SpaceCowboy

Alone at the table, Teyla Emmagan enjoyed a moment of solitude. She had spent the better part of the morning teaching meditation to some of the marines, and now it was time for her to relax. It amazed her how teaching a relaxation exercise could be so taxing on ones patience. These people could not sit still for one moment. Getting them to stop talking was the first task, ceasing their giggling was the second.

"Oh you didn't!"

"I did."

Teyla looked up from her lunch and smiled a hello as two nurses walked past her table. She did not know them by name but recognized their faces from Dr. Beckett's infirmary. They were young and friendly, and Teyla noticed, unaware that their voices carried far distances in the large cafeteria. As they took their seats a few tables away from her own she could still hear the conversation clearly. She did not mean to eavesdrop.

"I don't believe you," one said.

"I swear. I did it. I asked him out on a date. In front of Lisa too."

"I'm so jealous. You're such a bitch!"

Teyla turned to them, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry," said one of the nurses, catching Teyla's stare. "I don't mean it in a bad way."

"It's… it's like a term of endearment between women sometimes," stammered the other nurse with a nervous smile.

"I must apologize myself," Teyla replied. "I am still learning the colloquialisms of your people and still forget some meanings. My intrusion was only meant to clarify the connotation of the word." Teyla ended the interruption with a smile and let them know they could continue without further pause from her. She then rose from her table, returned her tray to the rack and left the cafeteria. She did not get far before she ran into Lt. Colonel Sheppard.

"Hey, Teyla," he said, without pausing to talk.

****

John Sheppard stopped by his quarters to gather the supplies he had stashed away before continuing on. He had hoped not to run into anyone else, and his wish was granted when he finally arrived at the jumper bay without interruption. Glancing around the enormous bay, he eyed each jumper as they rested in their parking spots- each idle and begging to fly.

A ship was meant to soar, as was its pilot. John imagined each one of them yearned to take flight as he did. Maybe it was the ATA in him talking, but he felt a connection with these flying machines, and with one more than the others.

He saw it sitting in its regular spot, dormant and grey. Unnatural.

Jumper One's systems were malfunctioning and it had been grounded two days ago after a flight to the mainland. John had known something was wrong almost instinctively. He had ordered a systems check the moment he had returned. And he had been heartbroken ever since the engineers told him their results.

Jumper One was sick. Well, in human terms it was sick. In all reality it was broken. Over stressed, was what the engineers had called it. John felt somewhat responsible for the jumper's condition since it was his favorite ship. When given the choice, Jumper One was always his. It had been the first space ship he had ever flown, and in fact the first space flight he had ever taken.

He felt a bond with the jumper. It was like a friend who had been there through the good and the bad. So now that it was sick, John felt an obligation to be with it, and make sure repairs were done adequately so it could be put back into service.

He adjusted the heavy duffle bag in his hand and approached the jumper. As he made his way toward the open rear hatch he ran a hand down her side. He felt the cool metal under his fingers. He paused before entering and gave the jumper a pat. "I'm here now," he said. "I won't let the engineers hurt you."

He sat down in the pilot's seat and threw his legs up onto the other chair. Leaning back, he rested his hands behind his head.

*****

"He's not answering his radio," said Rodney McKay.

"I'm aware," came back Doctor Elizabeth Weir's voice, through Rodney's earpiece. "I was looking for him as well."

"Hm, anything I should be concerned with?"

"No, it's nothing important. I'm sure he's on base, he's probably sleeping so I say let him rest. God knows he needs it. But if you do get a hold of him, tell him to contact me."

"Will do." Rodney tapped his earpiece and cut their conversation. He looked over his shoulder and saw the gaggle of scientists waiting for his undivided attention.

_Can you check these calculations? What do you think of this? What do you think of that? Dr. Phelps isn't sharing… I need this initialized._

It never ended. Rodney could not get a moment to conduct his own research lately. There was always a distraction, and usually one that he found way beneath his capabilities. All morning this had gone on, and some of his minions had even followed him to lunch. Rodney just wanted a moment to breathe. A moment to eat a sandwich in peace. And of course an afternoon with his lab all to himself.

A headache was forming behind his eyes.

He peered again over his shoulder. They were still there, bouncing on their toes, anxious faces and portable computers in their hands. Rodney took a deep breath and spun, ready for the onslaught. The voices filled with demands and questions came flooding at him. He couldn't make out a single request amongst the din. He tapped his earpiece and held out a silencing hand. The voices halted.

"Yes, John. I'm on my way." Rodney started toward the door, his hand still on his earpiece. "Of course it's an emergency, that's why you asked specifically for me." At the door he turned back and raised his hands in the air with a shrug. "Sorry guys, you're going to have to work without me. I'm needed for something… very important. Um, probably dangerous, you know how it is with John… Oh sorry, that's Colonel Sheppard to you." He smiled sheepishly and disappeared around the corner.

Rodney blew out a breath. "They bought it."

He wandered the halls trying to stay out of sight. He just wanted some peace and quiet, some place no one would think to look for him- which meant his quarters were out of the question. Several minutes later he found himself outside the jumper bay. Yearning for a nice bench in the back of one of the jumpers to take a nap, he entered. As he crossed the bay he noticed movement inside one of the ships. He turned. No one was in the jumper, but the lights were on.

Rodney came around the back of the jumper and stepped up the ramp. John was crouched on the floor peering into the bay over the front console.

"The lights were on so you had to be home," Rodney said.

John jumped, stumbled and fell back into the pilot's chair. "Damn gene. Dead giveaway, huh?"

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "That and the beer bottle on the dash."

John picked up the bottle and took a sip. "You're not going to tell Elizabeth are you?"

"Not unless you're planning on flying this," replied Rodney. "And maybe, if… you know…" He fidgeted, not knowing what to do with his hands. "Just on the off chance that… well…"

John spun the co-pilots seat around with his foot. "Have a seat, Rodney," he sighed. "I've got more."

Rodney nearly ran to the offered chair. A warm beer in his hand, he stared at it, not sure what to do.

"You _have_ had beer before, right?"

"Yes, of course," replied Rodney. "Plenty of times. You know how it is when the guys get together." He took a long drink and nearly choked.

John eyed him skeptically.

"How did you get this here anyway? "

John leaned back in his chair. "Let's just say I have friends in high places."

Rodney took another drink, this time smaller. "You bribed someone on the _Daedalus_, didn't you?"

"Yes. Now shut up and drink before I have you exiled."

****

The control room was quiet. Elizabeth Weir stood just outside her office looking down onto the gate room- a handful of people shuffled around, busy or at least trying to look busy. It had been over two hours since she had spoken to Rodney and neither he nor John had gotten back to her. She tapped her earpiece and called for her senior military leader once again.

No answer.

His reports were overdue, but in all honesty, Elizabeth knew that wasn't important. But if he would just bring them to her _she_ would have something to do. She found it remarkable that with all the wonders of the Ancient's City she was actually a little bored. There were things that required her attention, but they didn't really appeal to her at this moment. She felt anxious. She felt cooped up and borderline stir crazy.

"Has the Colonel gone to the mainland?"

Elizabeth broke from her thoughts. "Teyla," she greeted with a smile. The Athosian woman stood next to her at the rail. "No, he's around somewhere. But it seems he's gone off radio."

"I see," replied Teyla. "Very well." She paused before turning away. "I don't suppose you would be interested in a little sparring session would you?"

Elizabeth raised her brows, thinned her lips. "Hm, sounds tempting. But sorry, no thank you." It would have been nice to get some exercise, but fighting was just not her forte. She would much prefer to go for a run or play a vigorous game of tennis. A small part of her even wished Colonel Caldwell was around for a nice game of chess.

Teyla bowed her head with a smile. "Very well."

"If you're looking for a partner, I've heard Rodney is interested in getting a little time in the ring."

Teyla frowned. "Unfortunately I already lowered my standards half an hour ago. I tried to reach him when I could not find John. He too seems to be off radio."

Elizabeth pursed her lips, drew her brow together. "Odd. But I'm sure he's around somewhere too. Try his lab. You know how engrossed he gets."

"I think I will just let him work," said Teyla. "I will try to locate Ronon."

Elizabeth watched her walk away, thoughts of reconsidering her decision to spar weighing only lightly on her mind. Then she turned back into her office and pulled up solitaire on her personal computer.

****

Zelenka came into the control him in a fury of irritation. He returned no gestures of greeting to those he passed and went straight for Weir's office. "Have you seen, Rodney?"

"No, I haven't…"

"Figures," he cut her off. "Always when he's needed. He's probably off somewhere polishing his ego. I swear that man lives to grate on my nerves." He turned from the office and headed back the way he had come.

He hadn't meant to be so short with Atlantis' leader, but sometimes his frustration with Rodney was just too much to suppress. He mumbled to himself as he turned another corner in the corridor. "The Colonel will kill me if I don't get his jumper repaired. But no, where's Rodney with the proper specs. Nowhere to be found. And of course it will be my fault when things don't go right and he'll have to jump in and perform some magical Rodney maneuver and save the day. Well, he won't have to but he'll make sure everyone thinks he has to…"

He was still complaining under his breath when he came to a sudden stop outside Jumper One. Rodney and John were sitting in the cockpit in an obviously heated debate. Zelenka stood and watched for a moment. He could just barely hear their voices escaping the open rear hatch, so he relented to lip reading. Then he noticed the scientist lift a brown bottle to his lips. "What is this…?"

Zelenka quick stepped to the back of the jumper.

"It's better than anything you've come up with!" John said, pointing a finger at Rodney.

"What's wrong with Shipland?"

"I'll give you three reasons why it's wrong," retorted John. "One, it's stupid. Two, it's dumb. And three, it's… it's, well, I only have two reasons. But they're good enough."

Rodney slumped back in his seat.

"You two are drunk," stated Zelenka.

Rodney turned and raised his bottle into the air. "Zelempka!"

He frowned and stepped further into the ship. "It's Zelenka. And you know that."

"Yes, I know," replied Rodney. "But it's funny. You know, an old joke we share. Me not remembering you name and all."

Zelenka took a seat on one of the benches. "It's not funny."

Rodney turned to John. "Sure it's funny. Right? You know, like nicknames for old friends."

John shook his head. "Not so much."

Zelenka pushed his glasses off his face and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. He wanted to repair the jumper, and he had been searching for Rodney all over the city only to find him in the one place he had actually needed him to be. But he was drunk. Or at least, on his way to becoming so. _This is so not fair_, he thought to himself. "Do you have the specs I need, Rodney?"

"There will be no talk of work here," said John. "I declared this place a no-work zone a long time ago. If you want to stay, leave your radio at the door and take a beer."

"You know there are people looking for you two," replied Zelenka. "It's a little irresponsible of the both of you to hide out here with your… did you say beer?"

*****

Doctor Carson Beckett put his coffee mug down and dropped his head into his hands. It had to be a glitch. There was no other explanation. An electrical pattern was an electrical pattern, Earth or Ancient technology. He pushed the Ancient's equivalent of a cardiac monitor to the side to make room for his head. Frustrated he closed his eyes and drew in a breath. "P waves. P waves. There has to be P waves."

He yanked the electrodes from his chest and threw the cables on the table. He sat up and flicked the monitor off. After attaching his own monitor to himself for verification, for this one showed P waves, he decided he needed an experts opinion. After several attempts to contact Rodney he rose from the table and left the med lab.

He tried calling Zelenka as well, but again no response. Carson recalled hearing Zelenka speak about fixing the jumper this morning at breakfast, so he headed for the jumper bay.

*****

The jumper was alive with loud, laughing voices. John put his drink on the dash board and turned serious for a moment. "As an independent territory, we need a name," he said.

"And laws," added Rodney. "Like no talk of work."

"You said work," said Zelenka. "You know your punishment."

Rodney took a long drink from his bottle, nearly spitting out the overflow from his mouth.

"How 'bout the Canadian States of America?" suggested John.

Rodney frowned. "You really are hung up on this naming thing, aren't you? Well, I vote no for your suggestion. It's still too American possessive."

John pursed his lips in contemplation. "How 'bout the United States of Canada?"

"I like it," replied Rodney.

Zelenka sat up from the back bench from which he was sprawled. "Well I don't like it. Where's my representation? Am I not part of this new territory? Oh yes, let's forget the Czech again. I'm always out of the loop…"

John pointed a finger at the scientist. "You can be King."

Rodney turned on him. "What? Why him?"

"Cause he's neither American nor Canadian. It only makes sense."

Rodney nodded. "Yes. I see your point." He raised his bottle in salute towards the rear of the jumper. "All hail the King of the United States of Canada."

"Here, here," replied John, also raising his bottle.

Zelenka smiled. "I can live with that," he said, and took a drink.

"What is this? What's going on here?"

John noticed Carson Beckett come around the back of the jumper and come to a halt on the ramp. He had a stern look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. "Law number one, you may not speak of work…"

"You said work!" chorused the other two citizens.

John took a drink and continued speaking to Carson. "Law number two, you may speak of work when in relation to the laws." He smiled satisfactorily before continuing. "Law number three, leave your radio at the door. If you abide by these rules you may enter…" John paused and looked at Zelenka. "That is if it's permissible, you're Regency?"

Zelenka nodded regally.

"You people are completely off your rockers. If Elizabeth knew what was going on down here she'd have a fit. You have responsibilities. What if the Wraith were to show up on our door step unexpectedly?"

John raised a hand to silence the doctor. "You have to learn to relax, doc. It's a day off. We think too much about the Wraith, and the alpha site, and death and near death, and weapons and strategies and what not. In here, there's only positivity. Inside this jumper it's the United States of Canada, and Zelenka there is the King. It's a free territory."

"Free of stress. Free of deadlines. Free of anything that has to do with the Pegasus Galaxy," added Rodney. "With exception to Ronon and Teyla, of course… And the other Athosians."

John watched Carson hesitate. He looked as if he were about to run. But then John saw it- a spark. A little glint in the corner of Carson's eye. John smiled, quietly coaxing the doctor to cross over to their side. Then he saw it. Carson's shoulders relaxed as he pulled the radio from his head.

"All right," Carson conceded. "But you better let Doctor Weir know you're down here." He took a seat on the bench opposite the King and happily accepted the beer offered to him.

"Relax," said John. "She can find us if she wants to. Besides, she's free to immigrate to our little territory anytime she chooses to."

"Now drink your beer," stated Rodney. "A little drunkenness isn't going to hurt you."

"Rodney, I'm Scottish. You would have to fill this entire jumper with alcohol to get me drunk." Carson took a long drink of the beer and eased back onto the bench.

John smiled. He looked at each of the expedition members in turn. They had been here for just over two years and until this moment he had never seen them all so relaxed. They all truly seemed to be enjoying themselves. It was about time they unwound. It had been a crazy two years, culminating in forged friendships that probably never would have existed outside of Atlantis. John took a sip of his beer and felt unnaturally sober. Adversary truly did bond people together.

He glanced at Carson on the bench- his eyes were closed and he had a small smile on his lips. It was nice to see. John then looked at Zelenka- he was laughing at something Rodney had just said. That was a first, and it made John smile as well.

"All's well in the United States of Canada," he said, raising his bottle in the air.

****

Elizabeth Weir stepped away from the coffee dispenser, cradling the warm mug in her hands. She took a sip and looked around the cafeteria for familiar faces. If she were a paranoid person, she'd think her senior officers were deliberately hiding on her. Sheppard, McKay, Carson and even Zelenka were off radio. "I swear there's a black hole on this planet…"

"What's that?"

Elizabeth was startled. She turned and ended up face to chest with the newest member of her team, Ronon Dex. Tall, dark, handsome and the text book definition of the strong and silent type. He had a knack for making her feel uneasy; something she had hoped would have subsided by now. "Hello, Ronon," she said.

"What about a black hole?" he asked, voice deep and smooth.

She smiled. "I was just remarking how I can't find anyone."

"And you think they've disappeared into a black hole?"

"No. Not really," replied Elizabeth. "Just a phrase." They stood there a moment in silence, Elizabeth fidgeting from one foot to the other. She took another sip of her coffee to bide the time. "So, have you spoken to Teyla? She was looking for you earlier."

A grimace appeared on Ronon's face. "Ah, yeah, well, with all due respect I'm kind of avoiding her."

_Hm, so it's not just me today then_, Elizabeth thought. "Why is that? Something happen between you two?"

"No," replied Ronon. "I was supposed to have a meditation lesson with her this afternoon, but I intensely don't want to."

Elizabeth considered telling him that Teyla had been interested in sparring not meditation, but she opted for a better plan, so she kept it to herself. "How about this then," she offered with a smile. "If you truly need a distraction, I propose a mission."

Ronon's eyes lit up. "Really? Do you need me to assemble the team?"

"Yes… No. Well, sort of. That actually is the mission." Elizabeth paused, noting Ronon's confusion. "I need you to find your team," she finished. "They all seem to be off radio. I don't necessarily need them, but it would be nice to know where they are."

Ronon spun, his words barely audible in his retreat. "I'm on it."

*****

It wasn't what he would call a spectacular mission, but it was something to do other than meditating. He had nothing against Teyla, and he fully respected her ways and culture, but sitting still was hard for him. Ronon was a man of action not contemplation. He preferred to unwind with physical activity, adrenaline pumping, muscles aching.

He set a steady pace walking through the corridors of the Ancient City, looking into each room and questioning all that he passed. Not a single clue to be found, but the mystery compelled him to intensify the search. Ronon wasn't ready to get worried yet, he could always call up the city wide communication system if it came to that, but he didn't want to resort to cheating just yet. The search gave him something to do, and even better, an excuse if he came into contact with Teyla.

After finally getting a bead on Carson's whereabouts, from a nurse in the infirmary, Ronon set his mark on him first. He arrived at the jumper bay and was immediately drawn to the laughter coming from Jumper One. Making his way around back the noise became louder. When he stepped onto the ramp he was halted immediately.

"Radios outside, Mister," stated Carson, a finger pointed out the rear hatch.

Ronon crossed his arms over his chest, looked directly at his team leader. "Sheppard?"

"You heard what the man said."

Ronon didn't feel the need to voice his confusion, he was sure the expression on his face was telling enough.

"It's a day off," explained Sheppard. "And were all taking respite here in the United States of Canada…"

"I'm King," interrupted Zelenka, raising a bottle in the air.

"Good for you," Ronon said, with a glare. "Dr. Weir declared this day off?"

"I declared it," said Sheppard. "Take off your radio, have a seat, drink a beer and leave your problems at the door."

"We've declared a strike against the Pegasus Galaxy," offered Rodney.

Ronon took a seat with a smile. "So you're planning strategies?"

"Wrong interpretation of the word, my dear friend," replied Rodney.

"We'll have nothing to do with the Wraith today," added Zelenka.

"What if they come to us," asked Ronon, accepting the offered beer.

"Then they'll have to come in here to find us," answered Rodney.

"But they're not getting any of the beer," added John, followed by a long drink.

Ronon leaned back and stretched his legs out across the jumper's floor. He hated to think he was actually not fulfilling a mission, but Dr. Weir had said it wasn't all that important that she find them. And he could rationalize that he did indeed find them, she hadn't explicitly ordered him to bring them back.

Just find them.

He tossed his radio out the back door.

*****

Teyla came into Elizabeth Weir's office, confusion etched on her face. "Was I not informed of an away mission today? Or some meeting?"

Elizabeth looked up from the computer screen on her desk, her brows creased, lips thinned. "No, but if you're referring to the lack of personnel in the city I can relate."

Teyla crossed the room and took a seat opposite Elizabeth. She crossed her hands on the desk and leaned forward. "So it is not just me then?"

"It seems my senior officers have disappeared…" Teyla pulled back, alerted. Elizabeth held up a reassuring hand. "Not literally," she continued. "I have a feeling they've decided not to work today, and in defiance they've taken off their radios."

"I'm quite certain that is against protocol," said Teyla, the corner of a lip pulling upwards.

"Yes. It is," replied Elizabeth. Teyla noticed her relax back into her chair. She watched her blow out a breath and raise a hand to her forehead. Teyla did not envy the responsibilities this woman had. Leader of her own people was stressful enough, but the Doctor had taken on an entire city and the greater part of the defense of the galaxy as well. "Can you do me a favour?"

Teyla inclined her head. "I will find them myself," she replied, then rose from the chair. "Who all am I in search of? Colonel Sheppard? Doctors McKay and Beckett?"

"All of the above," replied Elizabeth. "As well as Zelenka and Ronon."

Teyla laughed inwardly when she heard Ronon's name. She had thought he was hiding from her. During her earlier search for the Satedan she had remembered their scheduled meditation lesson and had gone straight to the gym to meet him. After nearly an hour she had given up and made her way to Weir's office. "I will find them and bring them back," finished Teyla.

*****

"We are not drunk, Teyla," stated John, leaning far back in his seat, legs propped up on the jumper's dash. He looked to Rodney for confirmation. "We've only had, what, like one or two beers between us…?"

"More like three," corrected Rodney.

"Okay, so four or five between the two of us," stated John. "And we've been here the longest, so no one else has caught up."

Teyla was standing firm at the birth of the rear hatch, arms crossed defiantly, foot tapping in apparent frustration. "Well I have been sent by Doctor Weir herself to find each and every one of you," she said. "At the least you could have kept your radios on."

"That would be in direct conflict of the rules of the United…" started Zelenka.

Teyla raised a threatening finger at the scientist. "If you refer to this jumper as the United States of Canada one more time…" She left the threat hanging and turned back to the general population. "Now I suggest you all get back to the city and your responsibilities."

"Is this about me missing my lesson?" smiled Ronon.

Teyla returned a knee shaking stare. "Do not start with me, Ronon."

John dropped his feet to the ground. "Look, I'm not making it an order," he said, voice somber. "But this is the first time any of us have had anytime to ourselves." He looked around the jumper. "Okay, so '_to ourselves_' in a group. My point is, take a day off, Teyla. We're not doing any harm; we're just having a beer and relaxing. Nothing's going on today. The Wraith aren't knocking on our door. Reports can wait for a couple more hours. Enjoy the fact that we are alive. And safe."

"For now," replied Teyla.

But John could hear a faint impression of surrender in her voice. Surely she could recognize the need for time off; time to forget, time to grieve, time to gather thoughts and enjoy the company of friends on a purely social level. "Half an hour more," pleaded John, eyes level, voice thoughtful. "Just take off your radio for half an hour, relax and tell us about something happy. Then we'll all go back to work."

There was a chorus of groans heard throughout the jumper.

"I promise," stated John.

"You are very convincing, Colonel," smiled Teyla. "But I'm not sure it is a good idea. I promised Elizabeth I would bring you all in."

"What are we, outlaws?" remarked Rodney.

John rose from his seat and stepped toward Teyla. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently guided her into one of the chairs in the cockpit. "And you can," he said. "In half an hour. She'll just think it took you that long to find us."

"Half an hour," agreed Teyla, sternly.

John gave her a bottle, warm but still effective. She accepted it with a bow of her head and took a drink. John returned to his seat at the helm. "So, who wants to tell her the rules?"

*****

Enough was enough. For John to go off radio for a little while was one thing, but now Teyla had disappeared. She could not deny the concern creeping into her mind any longer. And she couldn't shake the anger forming in the pit of her stomach either. She didn't know what to think, what kind of explanation to hope for. If something horrible had happened to her team members and she had been remiss to do anything earlier, she would hate herself. But on the other hand, she did not want to believe her crew would so blatantly ignore the city's rules and be so careless.

In the end, she decided it would be better to be just angry with them rather than grieving them. But the thought did not curb her anger as she made her way to the bio-detector in the control room. She asked one of the technicians to bring internal sensors on-line and hone in on any kind of gathering. It was only a hunch, but she had a feeling they were all together.

"There's a group in the jumper bay," stated the technician.

Elizabeth looked closely at the screen- six life forms gathered in what appeared to be a single jumper. _That must be them_, she thought.

"Do you want me to open city wide communication?"

Elizabeth patted the technician on the shoulder. "That's all right. I think I'll deal with this in person," she said, then turned on her heel to leave.

Outside the jumper she braced herself before entering. She could hear the laughter. She could hear the camaraderie. She could hear the relaxed voices and understood what was going on. Part of her felt guilty for having to break it up, but as leader of this expedition she felt she could not let it go on for much longer. Although there was no imminent threat to the safety and security of the city, there was no telling when there would be. As hard as it was, they had to be consistently on their toes, ready for anything… other than a college kegger.

She drew in a deep breath and walked up the ramp.

Bottles clanged to the floor and people scrambled to their feet. Elizabeth suppressed a laugh. It was nice to see she still commanded some respect, and seeing their embarrassment and fear at being caught was almost punishment enough.

Almost.

"I believe an explanation is in order," she said, calmly.

Four fingers pointed toward the Czech sprawled on one of the benches. He sat up abruptly and raised his hands in surrender. "I'm only King, I have no authority…"

John stood up. "I started this, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. "That's Doctor Weir to you right now, Colonel."

John cleared his throat. "Doctor Weir," he corrected. "I just meant to spend some time with the jumper while she was out of commission. Next thing I knew the United States of Canada was born. One thing led the next and rules were made…"

Elizabeth was lost. And she didn't think a road map would help. What the hell was he talking about?

John obviously caught the meaning of her look. "We declared a strike against the Pegasus Galaxy and decided to take a day off. We were just letting off a little steam."

Elizabeth almost felt a little hurt- not being invited. But again, as leader of this expedition she was afforded few luxuries when it came to time off and socializing. And she hated to do it, now more than before, but it had to come to an end. If they wanted a day off, she would see to it that one was properly prepared and scheduled. She hated to think that way, that a day off had to be so analytical, but randomly choosing to shirk off responsibilities was one step too far. "I understand," she said, breaking the moment of awkward silence. "But what you've done here is _way_ out of line."

"We're sorry," John said. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean anything against you…"

Elizabeth held up a silencing hand. "John, let me finish. It's been hard around here lately, I know. And I'm willing to let this slide if it never happens again."

"You have my word," replied John.

"Mine as well, Dr. Weir," added Teyla.

Elizabeth looked at the Athosian with a sigh. It was one thing for John to draw Rodney and Ronon into his little plot, but Teyla was an entirely different entity. Things must have been truly rough around here, more so than she had thought. She dropped her head and hitched a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the rear hatch. "Go. All of you, before I change my mind. And make sure you get some coffee into you."

Rodney, Dr. Beckett and Zelenka made a haste exit. Ronon rose slowly and bowed an apology toward her. "And leave the beer," Elizabeth said, over her shoulder. She heard the clink as Ronon's bottle was placed on the floor before he left.

Teyla was the next to rise. She stopped before her with the look of a scorned child. Elizabeth felt her heart sink. She wasn't a parent, but she was beginning to understand what they said about punishing their children- that it was harder on them then the kids. She bowed her head slightly. "Teyla, I'm not angry that you wanted a day off, but surely as a fellow leader you can empathize with my position."

Teyla smiled and leaned close. She put her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders and drew her near. They touched foreheads. "It is understood, Dr. Weir. And do not worry, you are still our bitch."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped.

Teyla back stepped, eyes wide. She turned to John for reinforcement, but not getting anything from him, she turned back to Elizabeth. "I am sorry, have I misused the word? I was told that at times, between women, it was used as a term of endearment. Am I wrong to use it in this situation?"

"Yes. I would say so," replied Elizabeth, slowly with a sidelong glance.

"Then I choose never to use it again," stated Teyla. "I apologize once again. " Then she made her way out the rear hatch.

John and Elizabeth were the only two remaining in the jumper. An awkward silence ensued. Elizabeth stared at the colonel, enjoying the uneasiness his body language portrayed. She held him there a moment longer before dismissing him. "I'll deal with you later," she said over her shoulder.

John's head peered back into the jumper. "I thought you said you were going to let this one slide?" he asked, sheepishly.

"Oh, not for you, John. Not for you."

"Ah. So, are we back on a first name basis?"

"No," she replied, a smile hidden from his view. She heard his footsteps crossing the jumper bay in a fast retreat.

Alone in the jumper, Elizabeth looked around. Bottles were strewn on the floor and benches, miscellaneous supplies from the kits cluttered the dash and chairs. It was a mess, and Elizabeth knew exactly who would be cleaning it all up. She righted a fallen bottle and dropped herself into the pilot's seat. It felt comfortable. It felt powerful. She could not make the jumper light up with energy or make it bow to her authority, but she did get a sense of what John felt when he flew the ship.

She could also sense the responsibility he must feel when he took this seat. An overwhelming rush came over her. She didn't know how to describe it. It was a combination of a nervous stomach and pent up energy mixed with the slightest hint of fear. Elizabeth was in charge of the city and all its inhabitants, but who was it she turned to when action had to be taken? Who did she turn to when the worst things you can imagine had to be done? Who truly held the security of each and everyone's lives in their hands?

Elizabeth reached down into the duffle bag left behind and pulled out a beer. She twisted the cap off and raised the bottle. "Here's to you, John Sheppard. For everything you do to keep us safe." She took a sip and closed her eyes.

She took another drink and opened her eyes. The dash and all her consoles and panels were quiet. They did not beep at her; they did not chirp nor light up. However, they also did not demand her time, ask her questions, turn in reports late and incomplete or threaten to suck the life out of her. She leaned her head back and took another long drink. Again she raised the bottle in toast. "I now declare this Jumper, Elizabethville."

**~The End~**


End file.
